


Fireflies Don't Burn Out

by CinnamonDjinn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Galra Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith just doesn't realize it yet, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Shiro Loves Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonDjinn/pseuds/CinnamonDjinn
Summary: What if Keith had not been healed by the raw quintessence during his run-in with the druid?Keith only had a brief moment to survey the damage, the skin burned and warped andwas that purplebefore the druid was upon him once more. He was almost thankful for the distraction - it saved him from having to fathom why the wound looked the way it did.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	Fireflies Don't Burn Out

**Author's Note:**

> I recently requested a comic commission from the wonderful @shirolilya on Twitter, and with just a vague prompt about Shiro taking care of Keith, they came up with [this wonderful piece of art](https://twitter.com/shirolilya/status/1309909495762448384)!
> 
> I loved it so much, I just had to write a story for it. This was a threadfic on Twitter I moved over to ao3. I hope you enjoy it!

Pain.

It laced up his arm, through his spine, into his teeth and down his legs. And as fast as the onset had been, like a wave in a storm it briefly peaked violently before ebbing like faint ripples through him. It left most of his body with at worst a residual tingling sensation, the nerves sensitive and aching but whole.

His hand was a different story.

Keith only had a brief moment to survey the damage, the skin burned and warped and _was that purple_ before the druid was upon him once more. He was almost thankful for the distraction - it saved him from having to fathom why the wound looked the way it did.

* * *

The respite only lasted so long. No Allura meant no worm-hole and so as the castleship languidly made its way toward Zarkon's central command, it left Keith with just enough time to ruminate on his fight with the druid.

The moment their team meeting was finished, having hashed together their rudimentary-at-best plan (the one to rescue Allura from arguably one of the most difficult places in the universe) Keith fled the room. It wasn't because he was ashamed of his suggestion to forgo the rescue or angry that the team had decided to go against his advice; he didn't _𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵_ to leave the princess behind, but they were horribly outmatched and nothing short of a miracle would see them escape Zarkon's fleet whole and with Allura in hand. Still, the team had made a decision and he would stand by it and follow it through to the end like it was his own.

What he couldn’t stand however were any questions about why he wouldn’t uncross his arms or why he was grimacing (more than usual).

When they had landed, Keith had immediately changed into his civvies, his uniform undersuit ruined beyond saving. But his fingerless gloves only hid so much, and there was little more he could do than that to keep the bizarre injury out of view. But it was so sensitive to touch that even the heavy fabric of his jacket only further irritated it. He had gone to the medbay but quickly realized that he couldn’t read any of the supplies, all of them labeled in Altean. And he was too ashamed to ask Coran - Coran who would make a scene about it despite his best intentions, whose loud voice would easily get the others’ attention. Lance always loved to find something else to needle Keith about; that was just another thing he didn’t need right now. 

Whatever. He’d be fine. It would heal.

* * *

Except it wasn’t healing, at least not at a rate that made a difference.

The red-tinged purple still showed vivid as ever even quintants later. It certainly hurt less, though still enough that even he had to admit to himself that extensive training was out of the question for now. He could do it, but he knew he needed to take it easy so as not to exacerbate it before they arrived at Central Command - Keith wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize the mission. But unfortunately that left him with even more time to contemplate his fight with the druid and the damage it had wrought.

And the dreams too, that had started the day after. More like nightmares, really. In them the ragged purple spread like an infection over his skin, growing up his arm, twisting his body along the way. He couldn’t hide his grotesqueness from the others who shunned him. Even Shiro would turn away, unable to look at him, so disappointed and betrayed. It left Keith nowhere to go except the only place that would be willing to take him in. Keith would watch as the druids adorned him with a cloak that spun itself around his body like a shroud. It would pin his limbs tight to his body making his struggles futile. Then came the mask, a lid to the coffin that clicked into place.

It was always then that he would awake with a shout. Keith would sit up in a flash, sweating, and look down to his injured hand that almost seemed to pulse with forewarning. Like a dark promise he dreaded to pass. Like an omen.

Sleep rarely came back to him afterward.

* * *

The battle at Central Command was almost a welcomed reprieve - almost. Keith was the kind of person who needed to act, to focus on something else than the thoughts running errant in his head when he was alone. A fleet of Galran drones, unfiltered sounds of Shiro’s battle with Haggar echoing over the comms and Zarkon’s move on the Black Lion certainly met the mark.

And then the emperor said to him: “You fight like a Galra.” 

Keith’s vision went red. the words shattered the remaining bonds of his restraint; in its stead Keith let his rage shine. 

He channeled the fear, the frustration, the anxiety he had felt over the past movement into the Red Lion’s attacks - it didn’t make much of a difference. In the end Shiro had to swoop down with Black to rescue him and his defunct Lion at the last moment. The fact that Keith had managed to hold Zarkon off long enough for Shiro to return to Black was only a small consolation over the shame of his defeat, the desperation he had felt when he realized, even as he pulled Red’s shifters so hard his injured hand had begun radiating an unheeded pain, that he was about to lose. 

_Victory or death_.

It was in the few dobashes between then and Haggar corrupting their wormhole that Keith recognized the fact that his impending death hadn’t even registered with him, too miniscule when juxtaposed to his fear of failure - and that terrified him even more.

Then Red was skipping like a stone out of Black’s hangar, plummeting first into the wormhole’s abyss and then skyrocketing at a lost, barren planet.

His Lion still inoperable, there was little Keith could do to slow his descent.

It was a blessing that he passed out before hitting the ground.

* * *

The darkness receded. Keith came to, his body aching and his head pounding.

He was alive. Somehow.

Had Red managed to protect him despite being powered down? Or had he just gotten lucky?

He considered it to be the latter when he finally heard Shiro’s voice coming over the comm line. At least he wasn’t alone. At least Shiro was alright.

Mostly.

The thing is, Shiro’s dark sense of humor always came to light in two very specific scenarios: when he was perfectly fine or when he was completely not - and this had certainly seemed like the latter. Keith tried not to panic, even before he learned of the alien fauna that was hunting Shiro and especially after. He managed to keep it together as he worked to figure out how to cross the chasm and particularly when the flying rock platform beneath his feet crumbled, remembering that he still had a functional jet pack.

He had, however, forgotten his hand was still a mess.

Keith reached out last minute to snag the jagged rock that protruded from the cliff edge. He succeeded, at the cost of a shooting pain in his arm so sharp he almost let go. His grip stayed true but he still couldn’t stop his cry of pain, one that Shiro immediately caught.

“Keith?! Are you okay?” The words were full of static but the worry was clear.

“...Just a technical difficulty,” the Red Paladin gritted out as he pushed past the excruciating pain to climb. With a burst of energy he pulled himself up and over the cliff edge, huffing and puffing on his back, fighting to catch his breath. The respite was short-lived however when Shiro’s concern morphed into desperation, where Keith could even hear the crumbling cave entrance over the comm. He rolled to his feet and bolted.

By the time he finally reached Black, Shiro was gone. Keith found him within the immense crater nearby, fleeing as the lizard-like beasts kept right on his tail. As far away as Keith was it was still easy to see that his team leader was struggling, his posture contorted, one hand grasping at his side. He couldn’t possibly fight back.

It would be up to Keith. Keith, against four vicious creatures far larger than himself. Keith, who was also injured and just dobashes ago had made it worse. 

Keith, who had no Lion to fall back on.

… or did he?

He turned to face the Black Lion. Somewhere in the depths of his mind he recognized the thrum of a connection, not as strong as Red’s but still present. Instead of the burning intensity of fire it was unrelenting and powerful like a lightning storm.

He placed a hand on her muzzle and begged.

She opened her brilliant golden eyes and roared.

* * *

Somehow they made it.

The Lions were restored. Their teammates were found. Allura had been saved and Shiro was safely tucked away in a healing pod, the magic slowly ridding him of his cocktail of injuries.

Yet Keith couldn’t calm his anxiety.

The team had stood by the pod, watching over their fallen comrade. But instead of the peaceful expression Lance had worn when it had been his turn, Shiro’s was one of distress, grimaces and fluttering lashes. Keith almost pulled the proverbial andon cord on the whole thing.

With time still remaining on the lifepod’s counter, the rest of the team dispersed to begin their own recoveries from the whole ordeal. But Keith couldn’t bring himself to stay away for long. He quickly cleaned up and grabbed a bite to eat before situating himself against another nearby pod, one elbow resting on a bent knee and the other hand, the one he had reinjured, unconsciously pressed to his chest. It wasn’t long before his own lashes had started fluttering, albeit for different reasons, before he succumbed to exhaustion.

* * *

“...eith?”

He awoke to a gentle hand nudging his shoulder. Blinking the brightness of the room away from his tired eyes, his vision swam briefly before finally centering on Shiro’s face. 

"Shiro…" Keith murmured, offering his friend a relieved smile. But it slipped from his expression when he realized Shiro in turn was frowning, his brow furrowed, his gaze intense and downward.

Keith traced their path and realized Shiro’s eyes were fixated on his hand.

Instinctually Keith flinched and pulled his arm tighter against himself. Shiro's frown only deepened.

"This looks bad," the Voltron leader winced. "And old. This wasn't from Zarkon, was it." It wasn't a question.

Defeated, Keith could only sigh. "No… Druid," he brusquely admitted.

Shiro's eyes widened in dismay. "That long? Keith…"

The Red Paladin shrugged. "It's fine. Barely hurts anymore," he lied - or at least attempted to. But he should have known better to think that he could fool Shiro. 

Sometimes he wondered if the older man knew Keith better than Keith knew himself.

Not wasting a tick, Shiro slid his hand down Keith’s arm to grasp his good one. Even though the Red Paladin had his jacket on, he could still feel the other man's fingertips like a whisper, leaving shivers in their wake. He let Shiro pull him to his feet; to his surprise the taller man kept his grip as he led Keith to the nearby medbay, only releasing his hand to retrieve a toolbox-like container from one of the cabinets. He spent a few dobashes rummaging inside of it out before letting out a quiet "aha!" and withdrawing a palm-sized pearl-colored jar.

"Luckily I was in the medbay when Pidge came in after singing herself on one of her projects a while back," Shiro commented jovially as he unclipped the top. "Otherwise I'd have no idea which was the burn salve; my altean isn't exactly up to snuff yet."

It earned him a meager smile from Keith. "Well, considering what Pidge went through when she tried to use the teaching program."

"And I thought the Garrison's survival exams were bad," Shiro grinned. "Here, let me see your hand."

At this point Keith knew any attempt at refuting would be hopeless so instead he motioned to remove his glove. However Shiro interrupted by instead reaching for Keith’s hand himself. Stunned, Keith watched as Shiro gingerly peeled the glove off, then looked away in shame as the brownish-purple wound was displayed for all to see.

Shiro gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight yet said nothing. Instead he dipped two of his fingertips inside the opened container; they came away with a green residue that reminded Keith of aloe - if aloe glowed a vibrant green. "This might sting," he warned before gently touching his fingers to one of the many burn marks.

Vicious pain shot up his arm through his elbow. Keith stiffened with a hiss but forced himself to stay still, choosing instead to observe as the skin knot itself back together before his eyes. Ticks later both the pain and the damage had faded, leaving behind only a faint purple mark as evidence.

"It'll go away with time," Shiro assured with a concerned frown, briefly running his thumb over the mark before turning to scoop out more of the substance. Keith looked up at him but saw the other focusing intently at the task at hand, as if he could be spared the pain if Shiro was cautious enough.

It didn't work, although Keith still appreciated the thought.

One by one the wounds mended, and though his skin was still marred purple, it was far less evident. Shiro had yet to comment on the coloring, on what the implication might be. Keith kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but all Shiro said while he worked on the last injury was, "Bear with me a little longer."

Once more Keith chanced a look at his face. Although Shiro looked a bit more pleased and his brow a bit less furrowed, the frown had yet to dissipate. Guilt filled Keith, knowing it was there because of him. Because he just had to break rank on a mission - as per usual. Seemed like Shiro would always need to come in and deal with his messes. "I'm sorry."

But Shiro just brushed it off with a casual shake of his head and a soft smile. "Don't worry." He rubbed in the remaining gel on his fingertips, the touch lingering even though the medicine had been absorbed. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

To Keith's surprise it didn't sound like an accusation, nor could he detect any of the disappointment he expected to hear. He took a moment to flex his hand and was amazed to see that despite the skin appearing damaged, there wasn’t any pain. 

_I didn’t want you to know I failed. I didn’t want you to see I still can’t take care of myself. I didn’t want you to find out I disobeyed your orders and had nothing to show for it._

Instead he muttered a grateful "Thanks." He flexed one more time for good measure (stalling) before he sighed again. "It's just a burn, Shiro. I didn't think it was worth bothering you about." Still true, if only a droplet within a well. Keith watched as the last wound healed like all of the others - it was a good enough excuse to avoid Shiro’s gaze. "You have more important things to worry about than something small like this." Also true - painfully so.

"Keith." Now there was a chastising edge to the Black Paladin's tone - gentle as a brush of butterfly wings, yet to Keith it was shrill like a cymbal. His shoulders instinctively curled inward. But this was Shiro; he _knew_ he was safe with Shiro. It was the only reason why he didn't flinch when he felt a hand suddenly squeeze his shoulder. "Look at me, please?"

The tone caught Keith off-guard; it almost sounded as though Shiro were begging. He quickly glanced up to see that Shiro's expression was warm, that small smile still on his face - as if it had never left. "Stop saying that - you're also important to me. Even if it's something small, it's okay to ask for help. Whenever you need me, just promise me that you'll tell me. I'll come for you in a heartbeat, okay?"

"I.." _Oh_. There were no words Keith could think of in response to such a heartfelt and unexpected admission. Dazzled, he could only helplessly stare back. But Shiro was waiting patiently for a reply, his eyes searching Keith’s face almost desperately, and Keith needed to offer him _something_. "Okay…" He nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Besides…" Shiro finished locking up the medical container and placed it back in the cupboard. He shared a grin over his shoulder. "You'd do the same for me." The words so similar to the ones Keith had said by the campfire on that stars-forsaken planet echoed back at him like a gong. It filled him with a warmth he couldn't describe, something like the flame of a candle in the face of a sharp and icy cold wind - something fierce and powerful but still precious and deserving of protection.

He would keep them close always.

"Now come on," Shiro gestured to the door, still grinning. "I bet you're hungry; I know I sure am. Maybe we can bribe Hunk into making a post-victory meal to celebrate!" He haphazardly looped an arm around the Red Paladin's shoulders and tugged; with a mirth Keith hadn't felt in a long time he let Shiro pull him along, recognizing that there'd be no way to squirm out of the older man's grasp even if he wanted to (he didn't).

As Shiro led him out the door Keith glanced down at his bruised-looking hand once more and for the first time thought that maybe… maybe everything would be okay. 

And for once he actually believed it.

Fin.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my threadfics, help me support other content creators, or chat about fandom or writing on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Omnidolor)!


End file.
